Deserved
by Skalidra
Summary: Each pair of Robins has a different style of relationship between them. Things shift between them, and roles can always change, but there are some that are more defined than others. One of them is that every couple of months Jason and Damian separate themselves from Dick and Tim so that they can play as hard as they need to. Because sometimes, Damian needs to be punished. - BDSM.


Hello! So I've been way distracted, and don't have the next chapter of Mirror, but have some lovely porn instead to fill up the time. This was a request for an established Robin!Pile relationship, with the focus on JayDami. (I have not yet received permission/denial to attach the requester's name, so I'm leaving it off for now.) Specifically, some heavy D/s control/punishment style of relationship. So here it is! Please **read the warnings!** What's in this is done safely, and it's completely consensual, but it's potentially very triggering.

 **Warnings** for: Heavy BDSM, verbal humiliation, oral and anal sex, open relationships, heavy Dom/sub, collars, impact play, clamps, cock rings, punshiment, ownership, and Topdrop. (Let me know if I missed anything important.)

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It's just one kiss as a hello and then Tim makes himself perfectly comfortable on my lap with his back to me, thighs spread over mine and one arm wrapped up and around the back of my neck. He's still got his gloves on, and his mask, but his fingers are tangling in the short hair at the base of his skull. I know if I could see his eyes they'd be bright and slightly narrowed, matching that crooked smirk on his face as he pulls me down and into a kiss.

I let him, both of my arms hooked around his waist, at least for a little while. I enjoy nipping at his lips, and then the way he yields underneath the press of my tongue. Then I pull my mouth away from his, and murmur, "You going to deactivate those defenses on your suit, Timmy? Or am I electrocuting both of us?"

"Eager, Jason?" Tim asks, leather creaking as he tugs at my hair and his thighs squeeze down on either side of my legs.

I shift to slide my hands down the inside of his thighs, pulling a low, rumbling growl from the bottom of my chest. Tim shivers. "Just thinking about how wrecked I could get you before the others show up. I know how Dick loves to play second." I get a harder tug at my hair for that, and I grin as his breath catches. I know it's not even a little bit friendly. "Think how grateful he'd be to get here and find you already wet and open for him, Timmy. Maybe I could tie you down and shove one of your favorite toys up in you, just let you stew until they finish patrol."

Tim's free hand reaches back and grabs my side, and I can feel him swallow. " _You're_ in a mood," he comments.

I give a noncommittal hum, leaning in to mouth at the skin below his ear. "Doesn't mean I'm wrong," I whisper.

Tim gives a small laugh, rolling his hips up into thin air and _damn_ if the sight doesn't make me swallow too. "Nice thought, Jason, but they were only—" The door across the room opens, and Tim belatedly finishes, "A few minutes behind me." Another small laugh, and I grin over his shoulder at the two figures entering our safe house, pressing to push Tim's thighs a little bit wider. He can take it.

Dick is first, striding in like the whole world is a stage and all the lights are focused on him. He's still in Nightwing black and blue, and that helps with the air. Looks like it was an easy night; there aren't any rips or slices that I can see in the suit, and no scattered blood. Damian is just a step behind him, more confident and standing tall in his red and green Robin uniform, but obviously less interested in the spotlight since he lets Dick go first as he strips off his mask. It doesn't matter. My gaze focuses on Damian and stays there, and I can feel my grin slipping as he meets my eyes. I can see the way he swallows, the way he twitches in a shiver as Tim slides off of my lap to greet Dick with a long, deep, _handsy_ kiss.

Usually I'd be the first to stop and stare at that, but right now my attention's caught, and my 'mood' as Tim called it is rising to the forefront of my mind. Damian's still tall, still confident, but I can see that hunger starting to bloom in his eyes, and then his shoulders dip a bit in relaxation and his gaze lowers to the floor. It's submission, and acceptance, and all I needed to really confirm what I already knew was going to happen tonight. I've been in this mood all day, and usually if I'm in a mood like this than Damian is in the mood for the same thing. We tend to hit the need for this at about the same time, and these get-togethers only happen when all of our schedules happen to coincide. I don't play hard with Damian without Tim and Dick ready in case something goes wrong, so if I've been feeling this, then he's been feeling it too.

I can take him apart, but I can't always put him back together. Sometimes I even need to be put back together myself, and I don't trust very many people to do that. Dick, Tim, and Roy are the sum total of that list.

I get to my feet, pulling my gaze away from Damian and over to Dick. Dick is just barely letting go of Tim, hands sliding slowly along the curves of Tim's sides before pulling away. Damian closes the door as Dick turns to me, and before I even hear the click of the lock Dick's pressing himself up against me and pulling me into a kiss. His hands slide underneath my jacket, pushing along my armor as his tongue sweeps over my lower lip and then makes me chase it back into his own mouth. I grab a handful of Dick's hair, and behind him I can faintly hear Tim and Damian reuniting but my attention is caught by the gorgeous man letting me all but fuck his mouth. Dick's pretty much always up for just about anything, so long as it's not extreme. He's never interested in watching me with Damian, for one.

I know the violence of it gets to him, and that as much as he knows how good Damian feels afterward, he can't be in the same room when I'm doing my part of making him that way. It's too cruel for him; I understand that.

Dick gives a laugh into my mouth when I reach down with my free hand and grab his ass, dragging him up against me. I'm not totally expecting for him to give a small leap and wrap his legs around my waist, but I manage to take the weight with just a grunt of effort and a bit of frantic balancing. Dick's heavy, but I'm strong. I make it work. For the feeling of Dick's thighs around my waist, I'd make a whole lot of things work.

Eventually he pulls back a couple of inches, and his smile is bright and easy when he teases, "Missed you too, Jay."

I give him a crooked smile back, and then look over his shoulder to Tim and Damian. Dick drops down as I look, twisting in my arms to press his back against my chest and share my view. Tim has a hand wrapped around the back of Damian's neck, the other twisted into the cape at his shoulder. He's up on his toes, and even then Damian is leaning down a little bit to get their mouths on an even level. They're sharing a kiss that looks soft and slow, and Damian's hands are on either side of Tim's waist, supporting and balancing him. I press my mouth to Dick's neck as we wait for them to separate, and he gives a small, pleased sound and arches his back.

They finally do, with a lingering pause — I never see Damian look as gentle and calm as he does with Tim — and Damian straightens back up. He shot up like a _weed_ just a couple of years ago, and oh did that change a couple of dynamics. He's still obviously Talia's kid, and that makes him fucking _gorgeous_ , but Bruce is there too. He's tall now, just a fraction more than Dick but not to my level, and he's a lithe predator the same way that his mother is, with almost none of Bruce's broad shouldered, built to take a hit kind of build. But then there's that sharp intelligence in his eyes, and he occasionally looks frighteningly like Bruce when he chooses to really scowl. Of all of us, Damian can pull off Bruce's glare the best, and it's led to some seriously impressive father/son shouting matches.

Once Damian grew up, I stopped being able to easily tell people who the hottest person I'd ever met was. Before then it had always been Dick. Tim is pretty, and incredibly gorgeous, and Roy is his own special brand of amazing, but there was always _Dick_. At least until Damian grew into a copper-skinned, lithely muscled, _tiger_ of a man, all of it enhanced by his long eyelashes, smooth skin, and _stunning_ crystal blue eyes. Bruce is there, but _god_ is Damian Talia's son and it shows through and through. It's in every inch of the curve of his waist, the arch of his neck, and every curled smirk that slides his mouth into something equally dangerous and alluring.

These days, my not-really-siblings occupy three distinct places in my mind. Dick is _hot_ , Tim is _beautiful_ , and Damian is _gorgeous_ .

It's especially gorgeous when Damian's gaze flicks to the floor before meeting my eyes. He looks at Dick next though, probably because Dick is still smiling and it's hard to resist Dick smiling. It probably especially catches his attention because Dick is pulling away from me and heading back to Tim. I click my tongue and instantly he refocuses on me, even as Tim drags Dick into a second kiss.

"Here," I order, keeping my voice quiet for now. Damian doesn't give any visible sign but I can see his eyes darken a little bit, and he heads for me without another word.

I let him come to stand right in front of me before I move, and then I grab a hard handful of his hair and pull him into a kiss. It's hard, more a collision of my teeth against his mouth, but I can feel him twitch. With Damian, that's the equivalent of a full on shudder. He'll be more responsive once I've gotten him out of his suit. It's enough for me right now, and I reach out with my other hand and curve it around his waist, yanking him in another couple of inches. I let a small snarl reverberate through my lips, letting loose a bit of the darkness in me, and I can feel Damian's breath catch.

I pull back, letting go of Damian's hair so I can grip the back of his neck instead as I meet his eyes. "Yeah?" I ask. His mouth parts just a touch, the pupils in his eyes expand out, and I give a small nod in response to the nonverbal signs. "Alright, you got it." I raise my gaze up to Tim and Dick, who are both watching, and tighten my grip on the back of Damian's neck. "He's mine tonight," I announce.

Dick gets that little uncomfortable edge to his body language, but then he relaxes and nods. "Damian?" he calls. I let Damian turn to meet Dick's gaze, and Dick's small smile. "Is this what you want, little prince?" Damian always _hates_ having to admit his own desire, but he gives a small nod anyway. Dick relaxes a bit further. "Alright. Jay, if you need anything—"

"I'll come out," I finish. "Relax, Dickie, I'm not going to permanently break your little bird." Damian twitches again, and he's not facing me but I'm sure his mouth is doing that little parting thing too. By the way Tim smirks, I'm positive. So I give the two of them a crooked grin, and offer, "Have fun," before I turn around and pull Damian with me.

We have three rooms in this safe house, minus the bathroom and kitchen. The living room, which has soft carpet floors and enough couches and chairs to bring in as many guests as we want, and two bedrooms of equal size. They're almost identical, but we reworked one to be completely soundproof for pretty much this exact reason. Damian and I enjoy regular sex and play too, but once every couple of months we both feel the need to be intense and serious, and as much as Dick tries to pretend otherwise I know it bothers him to hear it. So we made a soundproof room. I can get as rough with Damian as I need to be, and no one else will be traumatized or worried about it.

I steer Damian towards the soundproofed room, and he's the one to open the door and slip in ahead of me. I close the door again — no lock, but that's for safety reasons — and then lean back against it, crossing my arms. Damian turns around, halfway between me and the foot of the bed and meeting my eyes again. I watch him for a few seconds, studying the wear and dirt on his uniform and doing the same basic scan as I did on Dick. No tears, no slices; easy night.

"Strip down," I order.

He does, folding each portion of his uniform and setting all of it in a neat pile on the ground at the bottom left corner of the bed. I watch each inch of his copper skin as it comes into view, studying the length of old and new scars and hunting for any injuries. I'm going to hurt Damian, but I don't want to hurt him unintentionally. Accidental pain is absolutely no fun. Nothing new catches my eye, bruise or otherwise, so I just watch Damian strip to nothing but his underwear, and then drop those to the floor too.

I stay against the door as he straightens up, all that skin on full display and his cock already just a bit hard, rising a touch from the nest of black curls around it.

"Knees," is my next order, and Damian obeys without the slightest bit of hesitation. He sinks down to his knees, legs spreading, back straight and maybe even just a bit arched. I let myself give a small smirk, and uncross my arms as I stare down at him. He looks right back at me, and I casually move to tug off my own gloves. "Is that how you obey your master, demon? You're _missing_ some words. Earning punishment before I've even touched you, and that's not even a record for you is it?"

"Sir—"

" _Master_ ," I stress. "Try again."

I drop my gloves to the floor, and Damian swallows and gets out, "Yes, _Master_ ." His voice is dark with desire, and I take a glance down at his cock to see it more than a little hard now. No surprise.

I let the darkness building in me out to play, sinking into the right headspace to do exactly what Damian needs me to. What _I_ need to do.

"Pick them up," I murmur, holding his gaze. " _Teeth_ , little demon. No hands."

His gaze drops to the floor, head bowing, and he breathes out, "Master," before starting to crawl forward. I watch him, taking in the shifting roll of his back. He almost flattens his chest to the floor to get my gloves between his teeth, and when he starts to straighten up again I let myself snarl.

" _Stay_ ," I snap. He freezes in place, head almost to the floor and his shoulders nearly pressed to it. I shift off of the door, circling around him once as I study his position. It's good, but he doesn't need to know that. His back is in a beautiful arch, ass held high. All _mine_. I stop at his back and crouch down, balancing on my toes for a moment before shifting forward a bit and reaching between his legs. He barely even twitches when I grab his cock, and I smirk as I squeeze him once. Harder than Dick or Tim would dare, but I know our youngest can take it.

He shivers a tiny bit, and I let go of him to slide my hand up, past his balls to splay over one cheek of his ass. I press my thumb down between his cheeks, to the circle of clenched muscle there. It's the second of warning that lets me feel comfortable with shoving my thumb into him without the presence of lube. I can hear him draw in a sharp breath past the leather of my gloves, and I can feel his muscles clenching around my thumb as I shift it, holding it just about an inch in him. It's rough, and the friction is uncomfortable even for me, but I press my thumb as deeply into him as possible anyway.

I pull it out of him with a quick jerk, and I can see him flinch from that, see him clench down. His skin's tinted just a bit red where I've abused it, and my mouth curls into a grin as I rock back to my heels and then to standing.

"Let's see what kind of toys are still in here," I comment, leaving him on the floor as I head to the chest to the left of the bed. It's the bed that takes up the most room in here, but the chest is pretty damn big. It's also mine; neither Dick nor Tim have the stomach to play with half of what's in here. They've got a smaller chest next to it with the more friendly toys.

I flip open the chest and take a glance through it. Right away I reach down for the buckling cock ring hooked to one of the walls; that's important. I let myself grin at the chain leash attached to it, swinging it to rest over my shoulder as I go back into the chest. Then I grab the bottle of alcohol from down in the corner and a few of the stacked cloths, carrying those over to the night stand. I pull my knife from its sheath on my thigh, setting it down on top of the cloths. I might not use it, but it's a good way to set the stage and sometimes Damian needs that extra push. There's nothing like the feeling of a knife on your skin.

I return to the chest, and then I grab a few of my more common implements and carry them over to the foot of the bed. A thick-strand rubber flogger, a lighter braided flogger for warm-up — using that rubber one first is too much for _anyone_ — a yew cane that I might not use either, and a couple of varying intensity rubber paddles. Those will be the basics. Now I can get into specialty, to decide what exactly I want to do to Damian tonight.

I consider what's in the chest, take a glance over at him — still kneeling, face almost on the floor and back arched up to his ass — and then reach down and grab a few more things. I slip the two smaller items into the pockets of my jacket, but let the steel collar hang from my fingers as I lean down and grab the _most_ important item. The bottle of lube.

These are just games, and I _won't_ hurt Damian like that.

I set the lube on the corner of the bed, next to my instruments, before I circle around to stand in front of Damian again. He doesn't even twitch, so I kneel down in front of him and grab his hair, dragging his head up. _Then_ he meets my gaze, and I can see him bite down on the gloves a little harder as he spots the collar in my hand. I click it open, pulling the keys from inside the lock before I maneuver it around his neck with my free hand. He shudders as I close it around his throat, the lock clicking shut with a defining snap of metal. He could pick it with the right kind of tool but other than that this collar isn't coming off to anything but some serious power tools or the keys in my hand. Which I shake once, right in front of his eyes, and then tuck away inside of my pocket. Right next to the next thing in my tools which, even though Damian's gaze lingers for a second on the steel chain draped over my shoulder, has nothing to do with his cock.

I take a glance at the clock hung on the wall above the bed, reading the digital display and making note of the time before I pull the clamps out of my pocket. Damian's breath audibly catches, and I smirk and toss those over my shoulder to join the weight of the cock ring and it's chain. The way the steel chain connecting the two clamps clatters against the thicker one of the ring is music to my ears. I tug sharply at his hair, forcing him to curl his head to one side and bare his throat.

"Not yet, demon." I bare my teeth down at him for a second, and then order, "Let go of the gloves." He does, his jaw loosening to let them drop to the floor. I pick them up with one hand as I grab his chin with the other, squeezing hard for a moment. "Tell me your safe word, Damian."

Damian blinks, and then leans into the touch of my hand and whispers, " _Jason_ ." I shiver just a little bit at his chosen safe word. At the _crazy_ information that Damian never plans on calling me by my first name, and only ever will if I cross lines that I shouldn't.

"And you'll use it when?"

"If I need to stop," he answers instantly, "for any reason."

I give a small nod, and loosen my grip on his chin just a little bit. "And if you call it, I'll…?"

He swallows. "Stop. Get me loose. Fix whatever's happened and see if I can keep going."

"Good," I praise, and lean forward to pull him into a single soft kiss. Then I tuck the gloves away, and let go just a fraction of a second before I stand. I push my right boot underneath his face, and sharpen my voice to tell him to, "Lick it clean, al Ghul."

Damian shudders, but then breathes another, "Master," and bends down to the task.

It satisfies a dark part of me — the part that I'm letting loose — to lift my other foot and step down between his shoulder blades, grinding the treads of it into his back as I pin him to the floor. "Not a _speck_ ," I growl down at him. "You know better, don't you, little demon?"

"Yes, Master," Damian whispers, and I snort.

"We'll see. I remember plenty of times you've disappointed me before. I think you _like_ being punished, demon, for how often you _screw up_." I catch the quiver of Damian's thighs, and let my mouth curl into a sharp grin. I press down a little harder on his back. "Gets you hard for me, doesn't it? Being at my feet, underneath my boot. You like being _used_. No one's ever had the guts to do it before me, not to the _little prince_. None of them ever knew how easily they could get you to kneel. Just need a few strong words and something to _beat_ you with and you drop right down. Little demon likes to be _punished_."

Damian shivers as he presses a small kiss to the toe of my boot, pressing his forehead to the floor. I shift my foot back a couple of inches, admiring the black shine before I swap my feet. I step around to his other side so I can press my newly cleaned boot between his shoulders, and edge my other right in front of him.

"The other one," I remind him, and his head rises a couple of inches so he can stretch his neck out and work on my other boot. I laugh, tilting my head back towards the ceiling for a moment as I let the dark impulses sing through me. "Heir to the demon, hm? You're not anything more than a blood soaked little boy, Damian. Just a tool for all your life. First they used you to kill, then to hurt, and now here you are in _my_ hands. You just don't feel right unless someone's around that's strong enough to take you down, and I _can_ , little demon. I'm _going to_. I'm going to hurt you, I'm going to _break_ you, and I'm going to fuck you hard enough to make you scream. Bruise you up so badly you won't be able to walk in the morning. You'd beg me for every inch of it, wouldn't you, little demon?"

A harder shiver, and Damian doesn't look up as he answers. "Yes, Master."

I grin down at him, flexing my hands and imagining all the ways I can make him cry. "Maybe I'll make you," I murmur, just to watch him twitch and try and draw in a deep breath underneath my boot. I shove it right back out of him with a hard press down. "I could get used to you begging me, al Ghul."

Damian's mouth presses a kiss to the toe of this boot as well, and then his forehead touches the ground again. I draw my foot out from in front of him, resting more weight on his back as I twist the ankle of my other shoe to take a look at it. Damian shudders when I wait to actually tell him anything, and that's when I shove off of his back and get both of my feet back underneath me. He stays down.

"Good enough," I grant. "High kneel three feet away from the foot of the bed, demon. Arms behind your head, and I don't need to _tell_ you to spread your legs, do I?"

"No, Master." Damian moves, shifting back up to his hands before he turns and crawls towards the bed. I follow him, stepping around to the side as he draws himself up onto his knees. His back is straight, and the muscles in his arms bunch as he drags them up behind his head, wrists crossing at the back of his neck. His knees shift apart, spreading wide enough that I shouldn't have any trouble reaching anything I want to. His head is raised, chin held high, but his gaze is fixed on the floor.

I position myself right in front of him, grabbing the two chains — and their attached toys — hanging over my shoulder and dropping them off to the side on the bed behind me, right next to the rest of the tools I've pulled out. Damian's gaze flicks that direction for just a moment, and then his eyes flutter closed and he drags in a deep, strained breath. I smirk as I reach into the pocket of my jacket that still has a toy, pulling it out and holding it low so he can see it, twisting it between my fingers. He freezes up for that one, and then gives a small moan and bows his head about two inches. The stainless steel doesn't look like that much, but it's one of my favorite things in that chest. Two rings to hold it in place, and a decently long, hollow shaft to go right inside his cock and stretch him out. He makes some of his best noises when I've got that particular hole filled, and with it being hollow I don't even have to take it out of him until we're completely done.

"When was the last time you got sounded, little demon?" I ask, as I set the steel to the side. I pull the keys to the collar out of my jacket pocket and swap them down to my pants, before I shrug my jacket off and toss it to the side.

"Last week, Master," he admits, and I can see him shift his weight on his knees a bit. See his cock twitch, probably at the memory.

I reach forward and grab his chin, digging my fingers into his skin as I drag his head back up. "Who was it?" I ask.

He shivers, swallows, and briefly meets my eyes. "Me, Master," he whispers.

I stare for a second, and then laugh. "Hungry little _slut_ ," I mock, yanking his head a little higher. "You get off to just that, al Ghul, or did you fuck yourself too?" Damian flushes, the red of embarrassment spreading across his cheeks as his mouth parts a little bit. "Say it," I demand. "Tell me you got off to metal in your cock with something up your ass, little demon. Tell me what you used, how you did it. Tell me how much you _loved_ it."

"I— I was here, Master. I used _that_ ," his gaze flicks towards the steel, "and the— the _big_ dildo. I attached it to the headboard and fucked myself on it, Master. I had to prepare first but I waited, didn't let myself come until it was in me." He squirms a little bit, hands closing around their opposite wrists. "I loved it, Master," he breathes. "It was so much better than just my hand."

I loosen my grip a bit, sliding my hand across his cheek. "You used _my_ toys without my permission?" I ask, my voice lowering to be a dangerous snarl. Damian freezes, his eyes widening. A grin curves my mouth, baring my teeth. "Oh, you shouldn't have done that, Damian. I might use them on you, but what's in that chest is _mine_ , and you don't get to play with it without me here. That's going to _hurt_ , little demon."

I let go of him, grabbing the steel insert off of the bed and then the lube.

"Bend back," I order, "hands on the floor." Damian does it, and even with that danger swimming at the front of my mind I take a second to admire the curve of his torso as he arches back until he can press his hands to the floor, his head dropped back between his arms. It puts the entirety of his front on display, muscle arched and held for me. I sink down to a crouch between him and the bed, and then twist the top off the bottle of lube and drip some down onto the toy in my hand. I set the lube down again, and make sure to spread the lube all along the insert until it's slick and slippery to the touch.

Then I grab his cock with my free hand, pulling it a bit towards me as I hold the toy up above it. Damian gasps when I start to press it down into him, and a thick shudder shakes his thighs hard enough that I have to pause for a moment. He doesn't say anything though, so I push the toy down into and over him. One ring is hooked securely around about the middle of his cock, and the other circles snugly right underneath his head. I've always liked how the steel shines against his skin, especially the bulb resting at his tip. I've considered pouring things down through its hollow center, but ultimately decided that was a bad idea. I'll have to ask an actual doctor at some point what could happen, and what might be safe to do.

"How many times did you get off?" I ask, as I slide my hand up his side to wipe it off. I reach for the cock ring next, and the chain attached jingles as I pick it up.

"Twice," Damian gasps, and then adds on a belated, "Master."

I buckle the strap around the base of him, pulling it tight enough to make sure that he _won't_ be coming until I'm good and ready for him to. I give one hard yank to the chain once it's done, and Damian yelps but doesn't actually move beyond a small flinch. I get back to my feet, the loop of the leash held in my hand.

" _Up_ ," I demand. He shoves off of his hands, and the muscles of his stomach clench tight as he draws himself back up to his high kneel. His arms come back up behind his head, and he's still flushed but it's more desire now and less embarrassment. "You owe me two then," I tell him, giving a small tug at the leash. His hips rock up, following the movement to stop the pull. "You used my toys, so I'm going to use you as mine, little demon." His breath catches, and I reach forward and grab his jaw with my free hand, sweeping my thumb across his lower lip. " _One_ choice, Damian. On you, or in you?"

He jerks a bit, and the question flutters his eyes closed again. "I—"

I shove my thumb into his mouth, holding his jaw open. "No, nevermind. You haven't been good enough to decide that, _demon_ . You'll take what I give you." I pry his mouth open a little further, sliding my thumb in and over his tongue. "I think I'll come right over this pretty face of yours, so everyone can see what a slut you are for me. Punish you after that, for everything you've done _wrong_ , and then decide if I'm in the mood to fuck you yet. You don't get one fucking word in it, little demon, not after _that_ admission."

Damian shudders, and then his tongue presses up against my thumb and he leans forward a touch. I give a laugh, but let him stroke my thumb with his tongue, let him plead without words.

"Eager to get started?" I mock. "If you're _that_ eager, how about you fuck yourself open for me, little demon?" His gaze snaps upwards, towards me, and I meet the slightly startled look with a smirk. "Grab that bottle of lube, get it on your fingers, and _fuck_ yourself, al Ghul. Get yourself nice and slick and open, since you seem so damn _hungry_ already." Damian gives a small whine past my thumb, and with my other hand I shove him down until he's resting on his toes. Then I let go of his jaw, pulling my thumb from his mouth as I drop both hands to my belt and unbuckle it.

He shivers, but slowly lowers his hands from behind his neck and reaches for the bottle of lube. It's not far from his left knee, and I pull the zipper to my pants down as he gets some of the lube in the fingers of his right hand. I wait until he's set the lube down again and reached back behind himself. His mouth parts a touch, his neck arches, and I drink in both sights before I grab a handful of his hair and drag him forward. He gasps once, as I pull him between my legs, but then his shoulder rolls and that gasp turns into a small moan. I give a small tug on the leash still in my hand, just to hear him give a second moan.

"Other hand behind your back," I correct, and Damian obeys. It brings both of his shoulders back, arches his chest forward a little bit and I lower my free hand to toy with one of the flat, dusky circles of a nipple. It almost instantly pebbles underneath my touch, and he hisses when I pinch it between my nails. Hisses, but doesn't move away. "I was thinking of piercing these," I comment, tugging at it one more time before I move to the other. "Little rings I could hook things to, or just bars to play with." Damian shudders and gives another soft whine, and I'm sure part of it is the continuous roll of his shoulder but not all of it. "You'd love it, wouldn't you, little demon? They'd be sensitive; I bet I could get you hard and desperate just by tugging and playing with them. Maybe I should make you wear little dangling pieces of jewelry from them with my initials, like little tags. _Property_ of Jason Todd."

He jerks a bit, but the next sound to come out of his mouth is a thick moan and I can see his hips roll forward. I pinch the other nipple, tug on it a bit, and then lower my hand away from him. I lift my hips to pull my boxers down a bit, until I can pull my cock free. Damian's gaze rests on it, and then he gives a small twitch of restrained motion and a wordless, pleading sound.

I loop the handle of the leash around my wrist, and then raise that hand up to curl through Damian's hair while I lower my other to wrap around my own cock. "Want me in you that much, demon? Why don't you _beg_ me to let you taste this and maybe I'll consider using your mouth instead of my own hand. Won't be as efficient, but you're decent enough at sucking cock, maybe it'll be worth it."

For a second I think Damian is going to refuse, but then he lifts his head up against my hand, gaze simultaneously lowering to the floor. " _Please_ , Master. Please let me taste you."

"Not good enough, little demon." I tug at his hair, and snap, " _Look_ at me. Look me in the eyes and beg me to fuck your mouth. Or is that the line your _pride_ won't let you cross?" I give a rough laugh, yanking at his hair as he meets my gaze. "Fingers in your own ass, cock stuffed full and bound by a strap _I'm_ holding the leash to, collar around your throat, but you can't work up the guts to _beg_ so I'll give you what you want? Make me _believe_ it, al Ghul."

Damian shivers, and then he's trembling a little bit. His gaze stays locked with mine, and his shoulder keeps moving, but there's a faint shakiness to all of it. " _Please_ ," he gasps. "Please, Master. I want you in me, _taking_ me. _Please_ use me, Master. Please just let me taste you; I just want to please you."

I snort. "Got the feeling at least. Come on, little demon. Tell me you want me to _fuck_ your mouth and come all over your pretty face. _Do it_ ; last chance,"

I watch Damian's eyes widen a little bit, and then the flush spreads to almost his entire face. " _Please_ , Master." It comes out a whisper. "Master, please." His breath catches. "Please— Please fuck my mouth, and," another hitch, a harder tremble, "please come on my face when you're done, Master." The words are slow and halting, only whispered, but I smirk and slide my hand down around the back of his head.

"Now _that's_ a little better, Damian. Granted." I pull him forward and down, angling my cock with my other hand so I can press the tip of it to his lips. I pull him down as I rock my hips up, and Damian slides smoothly down the entire expanse of my cock. I bite back a swear, clenching my hand in his hair and feeling my cock nudge the back of his throat, feel the slight flicker of a testing tongue. I rock sharply up into his mouth, and he gives a small moan around my cock that forces a muttered, " _Fuck_ ," between my teeth.

I wrap my other hand in his hair too, and then drag him up almost all the way before pushing him back down. He slides smoothly, not even a hint of teeth, and I grin down at the top of his head. His eyes are closed, but from this angle I can see down the lines of his back to the twisting roll of his fingers, and that's more than enough to keep me occupied. It looks like he's up to two of them.

I work my hands and my hips in sync, rolling my hips up as I pull him down to drive as far into his throat as possible, before pulling him off again. Damian takes it like a fucking dream, still with that persistent tremble but he doesn't gag or pull away even once. Not even as I get rougher. It makes me laugh to myself, tightening my grip in his hair so I can _yank_ him up each time. I only laugh harder when Damian gives me a muffled moan for that, his eyes squeezing shut a little tighter.

"All those genes making you what you are, and _this_ is what you're best at." I flick my gaze down his back, watching the roll of his fingers for a few seconds. "Little al Ghul, _heir_ to the Bat and the Demon, and here you are with my cock down your throat. _Begging_ for it, you little hungry slut. Can't even pretend that you're not desperate for someone to use you. I could do _anything_ to you and you'd love it." I snarl down at him, feeling my orgasm building at the base of my spine. "What a filthy, pathetic, desperate, _little prince_." I punctuate each word with a snapped thrust into his mouth, but it's the shudder and the slightly choked moan that drive me forward.

I yank him off of my cock, letting go with my right hand so I can wrap it around my cock and jerk myself off.

"Open your mouth," I demand, and Damian's face contorts into a pained grimace but he does it, his mouth falling open. I give him a small tug of hair as something like a reward, watching his face and the roll of his shoulder as I roughly work myself those last few inches. Then I let go with a wordless shout, and Damian gives just a tiny flinch when my release streaks across his face. His eyes are closed, but some of it does land in his open mouth, and I see his tongue flicker underneath the impact.

I make sure I'm totally done, and then pull him down a couple inches so I can wipe the tip of my cock off along a clean stretch of his left cheek. I keep hold of his hair as I tuck myself back away one handed, buckling my belt back up before I return my attention to him. I enjoy the dark satisfaction of seeing his face marked with my come, but then reach forward and wipe away a glob low on his right eyebrow with my thumb that's threatening to drip down into his eye.

"Swallow," I murmur, and his mouth closes for a second as he does. Then I swipe my thumb across his lower lip, leaving the glob there. "Look at me, little demon." I keep my voice quiet, and I can hear Damian's breath hitch. His eyes open, and I take a second to study the dampness to them, the shine of tears that haven't quite escaped. "Lick that off and swallow it too," is my order. He does. "How does that feel?" I ask, stroking the fingers of my free hand down his throat to loop underneath his collar.

Damian's breath hitches more noticeably, and then he drags in a breath that shakes. " _Deserved_ ," is his answer, his voice rough and just a few steps from breaking. I know that tone. "Master, _please_. I need—"

"To be punished," I finish, and Damian gives a soft cry.

" _Yes_ ," he begs. "Please, Master. _Please_." The tears break free, sliding down his cheeks, and I let go of his collar and stroke my fingers back up his throat to just beneath his jaw.

"Hush, little demon," I whisper. "You know you can trust me to make sure you pay for what you've done. You can pull your fingers out now, that's enough." He gives another little cry, and I hold his gaze as his shoulder rolls forward again, and then his arms are wrapping around his chest, clinging tight. I make a soft hushing noise, tilting his chin up a little bit. "What are you, Damian? Tell me, _what are you?_ "

He shudders, gaze fixed on mine, and then breathes out, " _Yours_."

I give a small hum of approval, and a nod. "That's right, little demon. And what am I?"

I can see his shoulders ease down a bit, and then his eyes flicker closed for a second. When he opens them again he whispers, "My Master."

Another nod, and I nudge my knuckles against his windpipe as I stroke my other hand back across his scalp. "That I am. So are you ready for your punishment?"

He shudders, and then he eases into the touch of my hands, relaxing. "Yes, Master."

"Alright." I let go of him, pulling the leash off of my wrist before I stand up and shift to the side. "Over the edge of the bed, arms at the back of your neck again." I watch him shift forward, and tug the loop of the leash up and over one of the posts at the corner of the bed's metal frame. It's not tight, not unless he pulls away from it. I step in behind him, pushing his thighs a little bit wider as I crouch down. I take a look at his asshole, at the glisten of lube, and then reach forward and push two of my fingers into him. They slide easily, and I give a small sound of approval. I work them inside him for a minute, just enough to get him to push back, and then pull away.

I walk back to the chest, leaning over into it to grab one of the smaller sized plugs. Relatively small, anyway.

I crack a grin as I walk back over, kneeling between his legs and reaching for the lube so I can get the toy slick enough to slide inside of him. "Let's keep you nice and open for me while I'm punishing you, little demon." I set the lube down again and spread his cheeks with one hand, pressing the end of the toy into him with the other. "Wouldn't want to waste all that hard work." He gives a small whine as I press the bulb of the toy inside him, the silicone stretching him wider with every inch until it finally pops in all the way. The base is still wide enough to keep him stretched, and pulling it back out will be all kinds of _fun_. For now, it's got a flat enough bottom that I won't accidentally clip it with anything I'm hitting him with.

I press up against him as I lean over his back, picking up the clamps from the bed. I purposefully drag the chain over his back as I pull away, and he rewards me with a shiver and a small arch that raises his ass a couple of inches. I give a small laugh, reaching beneath him with my free hand to grab his balls. He pushes his ass a bit higher when I press upwards, though his thighs tremble a bit, and then I let go. He stays where I've pushed him, and I twist the chain of the clamps between my fingers. I take one of the clamps in hand, and Damian flinches and gives a sharp but quiet cry when I close it on the skin high on his inner thigh, almost at his groin. I hook the other to the opposite side — I get another cry — and then tug a bit at the chain to make sure they'll stay. He jerks backwards, towards the pull, and gives a much louder whine.

"Easy," I murmur, letting go of the chain to slide my hands up his sides. "Just making you pretty for me, little demon. You stay fairly still, and those won't hurt too bad." I look up at the clock, checking the time to make sure I know when I'll need to take these back off. Damian can take a lot, but I won't risk permanent or serious damage. Not without a _serious_ discussion of it beforehand, anyway.

I might talk about piercing his nipples, but I'd never do it without his permission. Not even temporarily.

I get back to my feet, leaning over to pick up one of the easier paddles. I flip it in my hand, considering the distance as I step a bit to the side so I've got a better angle. "When I punish you, you're going to count the blows for me, little demon, and for every ten you're going to _thank_ me for it. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Master," is the immediate response.

I take a testing swing with the paddle, stopping it just a bit before his skin to make sure I've got the distance right. "I'll even be nice; I'll warm you up before we start, and these you don't have to count. Why don't you show me your gratitude for that, al Ghul?"

His back arches a bit more, pushing his ass up and towards me, and I smirk as he gives a small moan. "Thank you for your mercy, Master. _Thank you_." I swing the paddle, letting it hit the left cheek of his ass with a loud _crack_ , and Damian jumps a bit. "Thank you," he repeats in the middle of another moan, "Master."

I hit the other side of his ass, and then give each of his upper thighs a hard smack too. The paddle _sounds_ a hell of a lot more impressive than it actually is, and Damian flinches at the impacts themselves but then pushes back in anticipation of the next blow. I work him over, making sure that his ass and thighs are tinted a light red before I swap to a different instrument. One of the other paddles; still more sound than substance but it's harder than the first one. Still just warm up, but this will sting a bit more. I spin it once in my hand before striking, hitting one side of his ass and then pressing the paddle in instead of letting it bounce to transfer the impact more deeply into his muscle.

He rocks forward a bit, giving a small gasp. I do the same on the other side, and I can see his hands clench down over his own wrists, his head twisting into the bed. He still arches back for the next blow though, and I reward him with a couple of lighter hits to his thighs before following through on the impact again. I can see sweat starting to shine on his skin, and as I hit him I admire the new sheen to the muscles of his back. It turns his copper skin into something out of a fantasy. I pause, unable to resist sliding my hand up his back to feel that muscle shift underneath my fingers. I cover up the moment by stepping to his side, wrapping that free hand around the cross of his wrists to pin them down against the back of his neck. I snap the paddle a little harder against him, and I can feel him twist against my grip as he gasps again.

I hold his wrists down for another few hard hits, before letting go and sliding my fingers up into his hair. "You're taking it well," I murmur, lightly scratching at his scalp. "Just a little more and then we can move on to something a little harder, Damian. Need to get something to bring your back into this too."

He arches his back further, bringing his ass up high and on display. "Thank you, Master."

I reward the surrender with a couple more relatively softer hits, and then rest it against his left hip as I pet his hair. "You're welcome, little demon. Hold that arch for me, alright?"

Damian raises his head, pressing it up against my fingers as I pull the paddle off of his hip. "Yes, Master," he breathes.

I smile down at him as I go back to work, gently petting his scalp as I work on warming up his ass and thighs. He holds the arch, muffling his sounds against the bed and immediately sliding back into position every time I hit him hard enough to make him rock forward. It's pretty damn beautiful. Dick's always had the greatest ass of any of us, but Damian runs a close second and it's moments like these that make me question Dick's title. Then again, the black of the plug inside him definitely makes me want him one hell of a lot more, and I don't get to play like that with Dick. Not often anyway.

Damian and Tim have always been the big fans of toys, whereas Dick will always choose good, old-fashioned, and _very_ passionate sex every time. I've had my times that I got to tie him down and have my way, but they're not nearly as often as I get to do it to Tim and Damian. Dick's usually less likely to let himself be utterly ruined, and more likely to want to just fuck into exhaustion. Or watch and participate with ruining someone _else_ .

It doesn't make sex with Dick any less amazing. Nothing could do that. The times that I _do_ get to play with him like this are incredible, but usually not too long lived. Dick's a master of turning the tables, no matter what kind of restraints I put him in. Tim will fight them but won't _actually_ break or pick whatever he's been tied down in, and Damian... Damian surrenders, and it's fucking _beautiful._ Put Damian in a pair of cuffs or a collar and he just _melts_ , which I admit kind of makes him my favorite to play with.

Not this hard, not with this _need_ , but I could wreck Damian every day and never get bored. This is just the one thing that we both need that no one else can understand or take.

Damian _needs_ to be punished, to be hurt for everything he's done in his life and then forgiven. _I_ need to take out my darker impulses and the violence that builds inside me in a safe way, on someone who can take and enjoy it. We're both damaged, but one of these nights every other month or so lets us manage those broken parts without disaster. The others might not be able to do this, or be around when it happens, but they know it's a good thing. They know that I walk away with all of my anger leeched out of me like it was a poison, calmer than I pretty much ever am. They know that Damian gets back up with acceptance calming him down and keeping him from doing anything reckless, and that he savors the bruises as long as they last.

It's messed up, but it works for us.

When I've decided that he's warmed up enough I let the paddle rest on his back, sliding my hand down across his ass. He flinches a bit when I trail my nails across the abused, heated skin, but doesn't pull away from me. At least not until I spread my hand out to grab and grope each of his cheeks individually. Then he gasps and rocks forward, but he's sliding back to that nearly perfect arch before I can even find the words to reprimand him. I slide my hand lower, and find his cock rigid underneath the two rings of steel looping around it. He whines as I ghost my fingers along his cock, and I curl my other hand into his hair before I tug a bit at the steel, shifting the piece that's pushed inside of him.

He cries out, and I glance up at the time before sliding my hand lower. The clamps can stay on for a few more minutes, but the cock ring shouldn't stay on any longer than this; it's not healthy. I unbuckle the strap around his cock, letting it fall to the floor, and Damian bucks forward almost instantly.

"Ah," I snap, tugging at his hair at the same time as I lower my other hand to grip and tug a bit at his balls. "Stay still for me, little demon. _Arch._ " Damian whines, but forces his back to curve again and his ass to raise. I keep my grip in his hair, but let go of his balls. Then I have to raise that hand and palm at my own cock, which is _definitely_ back on board and very interested in claiming that second orgasm that Damian still owes me. Damian is hard to resist.

So I don't.

I take the paddle off of his back, dropping it onto the bed and stepping back around him and between his legs. I sink to my knees as I reach for the lube with one hand and the base of the plug in Damian with the other. I rock it out of him, watching the way he stretches open around the widest part of the plug and listening to the soft cry he gives. I almost swear at the way he clenches down on nothing once the plug slips all the way out, and then how he relaxes and there's the slightest gap in the middle there that makes me want to just shove fingers in and fuck him until he _screams_ . It's pretty damn tempting.

I free myself again, setting the plug aside; maybe I'll shove it back in him when I'm done. I make sure that my cock is slicked — probably not necessary, but better safe than sorry — before I set the lube aside too and get back to my feet. I grab him by the hips, yanking him up to a better height for me. He gasps, legs flailing a little bit as he tries to balance on the suddenly different height, but I don't give him the time to find his feet before I'm angling his ass towards me and shoving inside. He arches even further, and the sound that comes out of his throat is a high, desperate noise.

I don't wait for him to adjust either, tightening my grips on as I make good on my promise. Using him just like a toy. He does manage to balance, not that it matters much. I'm holding him up by his hips, and what little balance he has is a constant battle, since I'm yanking him back and forth to meet my thrusts. They're hard, probably enough to bruise the backs of his thighs even more than they already will be, but all of Damian's noises are absolutely nothing but ecstasy, so I don't bother worrying. His back stays in its arch too, his head twisting against the sheets and his shoulders still pressed down against it.

I dig my nails into his hips, slamming deep into him and letting my teeth bare as I fuck him with absolutely no regard for his pleasure. Not that he's not getting it. I can feel him clenching around me, and I let it rip a dark snarl from my chest, yank him back a bit harder onto my next thrust. He's hot, slick, and tight, and with every push in the heat of his abused thighs and ass presses against me too.

" _Master!_ " Damian cries, his torso twisting and his ass clenching down hard on me. "I— I can't—"

"You'll _hold_ ," I growl. "You come _when I say_ , little demon. _Not_ before." He sobs out a breath, and I angle his hips a little sharper so that I can put more weight behind my thrusts. He's trembling, and god if that doesn't make me even harder. "Don't give me another reason to punish you, al Ghul. My _mercy_ doesn't go that far."

I mostly expect him to come anyway, but somehow he does manage to last. He gets through me fucking him to within an inch of his life, and he's sobbing when I finally shove my way deep inside of him and come, but he doesn't follow me. I grind into the back of his thighs, my back arching and my head tossing back as I moan. I linger in the moment, enjoying his heat and the leftover sensitivity before I finally pull away. He drops to his knees, and I let him as I tuck myself away for the second time. I'd love to be out of my clothes, but they're part of the power play. Big vulnerability when one person's all suited up, weapons included, and the other's naked.

"You didn't come," I point out, as I shift down to kneel at his left side. "Got more stamina than I gave you credit for, little demon."

Damian shifts, and then of _all_ the things I'm not expecting he rolls his weight back to his knees and arches his back down again. I swallow, staring at the curve of his back and his raised ass. He's still shaking, and I can hear him crying into the bed, but his back is still in that perfect arch that I demanded he keep. Suddenly I don't _care_ about the roles for a moment, or the lingering violence sitting in my chest. I lean forward and slide my hand up his back, pressing a kiss to one shoulder and then the top of his head.

"That's _good_ , Damian," I whisper. "That's _so_ good." I take hold of his cock with my left hand, and reach back between his legs with my right. "Come for me," I demand, sliding my fingers into him to fuck him. He sobs out another breath, but he rocks back into my hand. " _Come_ , Damian."

"Master," he begs, his voice cracking. "Master, _please_ . _More_ . "

I press soft kisses to his hands, his wrists, his shoulders, and then agree. "Of course." I pull my hand away from him, he whines, and then close my eyes against his back. In the span of maybe a second and a half I reach from one of his thighs to the other, disconnecting the clamps and letting them fall to the ground. It takes a second for feeling to rush back to him.

Damian _shrieks_ , jerking hard underneath me, and I get my hand back on his cock in time to feel the pulse and throb of him coming. I fuck him through it, sliding my fingers inside him in hard, rocking rolls until he gives a soft sob followed by a gasped, " _Master_ ."

I stop, carefully holding him in one hand while I slide my fingers back out of him and wipe them off on the back of his thigh. He twitches forward and away from my hand, and I press another small kiss right between his shoulder blades. "Still with me, Damian?" I ask.

"Yes, Master," he answers after a moment, his voice low and breathless. Tired, but still shaking a bit. I bet when I get his face away from the bed it'll be a mess of tears.

I gently stroke up his back, and then murmur, "Is there any word you want to say?" If he calls his safeword, I'll respect it. This was fairly intense already, and I haven't given him what he really wants yet but that doesn't mean that he hasn't had enough. I'd never push Damian past what he wants.

Damian shakes his head, and then follows it up with a soft, "No, Master."

I study him for a second, and then give my own nod. He can't see it, but that's not the point. "Alright," I concede, and let go of his cock. I lean in, pressing one last kiss to the top of his head before I whisper, "You did _very well_ , Damian." Then I pull away, straightening up all the way to my feet as I take a look at the rest of my tools. I pick up the braided flogger, and then reach down and run my fingers through his hair. "Just warming you up, little demon. Stay still."

I step back, getting between Damian's legs so I have a full range on everything I'll want to hit. His ass, his upper thighs, and the upper left and right portions of his back. I start with his legs and ass, reminding the tender skin that it was taking blows and waking it back up for me. It's almost no time before Damian is jerking and twitching forward after every blow, making little gasping noises into the bed. He's not trembling anymore, and I think he's stopped crying, but he's definitely feeling it. Then I switch up to his back.

He yelps at the first strike, and I give him a moment of pause before doing it again. I'm not hitting all that hard, but the skin on his back is fresh and hasn't been touched yet, so he's feeling the pain much more intensely there. Plus, the flogger stings a lot more than the paddles. All I need to do is work over his back for a bit — and keep his ass and thighs up there with the occasional few strikes — until it can take his actual punishment. The rubber flogger for his back. The cane for his thighs and ass. That flogger is _dangerous_ , and I'm good with it but the risk of a stray tail is just too high if I use it on his ass or thighs. All it would take is one accident.

It's not going to flay him alive or anything, but it _hurts_ . It's one of the more intense things that I have here, and Damian is very familiar with it. He needs intense.

It's practice that lets me work Damian up _just_ to the edge of too much, and then pause and let the adrenaline and endorphin rush ease into his muscles. While I wait I lower my hand to his skin, scraping my nails over the reddened skin and stroking it in turns. It gets me some wonderful noises, and Damian stays still but not easily. I can almost feel him wanting to jerk away from me, but he manages to just let me work instead.

When I'm sure that the chemical rush is really in his system, and he's floating high enough to take the pain, I thread my fingers through his hair and tug just a little bit. "It's time, little demon. Do you remember the rules about your punishment?"

His hands curl around his own wrists, and he gives a small nod. "Yes, Master. Count the strokes, and thank you every ten."

"That's right," I agree, as I turn and grab the cane with my other hand. "Tell me why you're being punished." He hesitates, and I tighten my grip in his hair as I shift my body sideways, lining up the angle with the cane. "What was the first thing you did wrong tonight, little demon?"

He gives a small shiver, and I watch him shift his weight on his knees. "I failed to acknowledge your order, Master." I flick my wrist, and he yelps at the sharp snap of the cane against his upper thighs. Swinging a flogger is fun, but canes just require so little _effort_ . "One, Master," Damian gasps. I lay the second strike just a little bit lower, and he jerks forward about an inch with a cry of pain. "Two, Master!"

I lay three more of my snaps across his thighs, carefully watching the almost instant red stripes left behind. They're a little harder to spot against his skin tone, but I've got the practice for it. Then I pull it up to across his ass instead, and make my strikes just a little nastier. His sounds get louder, but he doesn't miss a number, and when I hit ten I pause to let him gasp in a breath.

"Ten, Master. Thank you for punishing me." He's breathless again, and his shoulders are shaking a little bit, but there's no obvious tells that he's crying. Not yet. I'm sure that he'll be crying before I'm through with him; _breaking_ Damian means I get to actually see him break down.

I give him a few moments before I hit him again, and he jerks and yelps. "What was the next thing you did wrong, little demon?" He drags in a breath, and I wait a moment before snapping, "Number!" and following it with a hard whip across the backs of his thighs.

He cries out, and then shouts, "Eleven and twelve, Master! I'm sorry!" I slide the cane up the back of his legs, lowering my gaze to that last strike and finding the hints of abraded skin. Before he speaks, I can see blood start to bead in a few spots. Nothing big enough to be worried about; barely even scratches. "I used your toys without permission, Master."

I raise my gaze up to the clench of his hands, and then murmur, "Yes, you _did_ ," into the silence. "I told you that was going to hurt. Do you believe me, little demon?"

He shudders. "Yes, Master."

"Do you deserve it?"

A hitched sob, and then Damian answers, " _Yes_ , Master."

So I hit him, and he cries out and counts for me as I lay red stripes across his thighs and ass. I don't hit hard enough to draw blood, but I leave marks that won't fade for at least a good few days, and I make him writhe and jerk for me. I stay quiet, letting his voice and his sounds fill the room as I work. I get two more 'thank you's before I stop and lower my hand down to run across his ass. He's shaking more visibly now, but a glance between his legs tells me that he's hard too. I consider slipping the cock ring on before I brush the idea aside.

I explore the stripes, feeling the slightly raised skin on some of them and knowing that they'll be rising into welts. The others are just bruises, apart from that one that tore him open just a little bit. He trembles, but doesn't move away from my hand. I drop the cane to the bed, and pick up the rubber flogger instead. Damian must catch a glimpse of it, because he flinches and give a high-pitched whine.

"Do you _deserve_ it?" I repeat, as I lower the flogger to trail over his back.

Damian gives what I can only describe as a desperate keen, and then sobs out, " _Yes_ , Master."

I lean down over him, pressing a kiss between his shoulder blades. "That's right, little demon. You deserve this, you know you do. Count it for me."

The first swing is lighter, testing, but it still arches his back and makes him give a sharp sound of pain. "Thirty-one, Master." The second is harder, and he arches away from it and yelps, but still gasps, "Thirty-two, Master!"

I watch him carefully, enjoying the arch of my shoulder and the swing of the flogger, but keeping a part of my mind sectioned away from the violence. I let it keep me in check, making sure that I don't swing as hard as I can, and that I give him enough time to breathe and speak between blows. He gets loud, almost shrieking with every blow and then sobbing out the number. It takes him two tries to thank me at forty, but gets it the first time at fifty. The words are barely even distinguishable through his tears, but I have quite a bit of practice understanding Damian when he's this worked up.

After he's sobbed out his thank you I stop, reaching down and grabbing a handful of his hair. His hands are in tight fists, clenched against the back of his neck, and he _keens_ when I drag his head up and force his back to arch but doesn't fight me. I lean down, getting a look at his face. His eyes are wide and desperate, mouth open as he cries, shoulders shaking with each fresh wave. His skin's flushed, streaked with his tears, and I know that's fair. With the marks on his back, the bruises that I know will be there, the small beads of blood that are starting to show, he _should_ be in this kind of pain. Even with the kind of punishment we can take, what I've done to him is nothing to be laughed at. He'll feel this for a long time.

I tug at his hair, force his back to arch a little bit farther.

"Why am I punishing you?" I snarl, tightening my grip on the flogger.

He trembles, eyes squeezing shut and then flicking wide again, staring up even though he can't see me from this angle. "I— Using your toys, Master!" His voice is a wreck, but he manages to get the words out.

I hit him again, cracking the rubber hard over his right shoulder blade. He _screams_.

"Why am I punishing you?!" I shout over it, yanking at his hair. " _Answer_ me, al Ghul!"

It takes him a couple seconds to get his breath back enough to stammer, "I used your t-toys without _p-permission!_ I'm _sorry_ , Master!"

Another strike. Another scream.

" _Why am I punishing you?!"_ A roar this time, loud enough to rival that scream.

"I'm _bad!_ "

The words are shrieked, and then he's collapsing forward against my grip. I let him go, throwing the flogger to the side as I watch him curl into himself. He slides off the bed, curling at the foot of it with his back to me, his head tucked down as he sobs. I sink to my knees next to him, gently touching his side with one hand and his hair with the other. I run my fingers through it, pressing close and ignoring his flinch of pain, pulling him up against me. I press my lips to his shoulders, the still clasped hands around the back of his neck, the top of his head.

"That's right," I whisper. "That's right, Damian. Let go for me, little demon. Just let go."

He's shaking pretty hard, and I wrap one arm around him, the other keeping up the gentle stroke of my fingers along his scalp. I hum a soft song, probably not even audible underneath his crying and definitely not the actual tune to anything, letting my head rest against his. Slowly, he starts to calm down a bit. The second that I think he'll actually hear me, I give a very gentle tug to his hair and pull his head up to look at me.

"What happens when we're bad, Damian?" I ask. He has to swallow a couple of times, sniffle, and the tears keep running.

"We're punished," he breathes, and I nod.

"And what happens after punishment?" is my next prompt.

He stares at me, gives a slightly harder sob, and then gasps, "Forgiveness."

I nod again, and then lean forwards and press a kiss to his forehead. "That's right." I keep my mouth pressed to his skin as I whisper, "I forgive you, Damian." I rock him back and forth, just slightly, and repeat, "I _forgive_ you."

He pushes back against me, hands unclasping and falling from behind his neck as he partially turns and grabs at me instead. He can't really get a purchase on the reinforced armor I'm still wearing — the underlayer of my normal suit — but he digs his fingers into it and clings, burying his face in underneath my chin as he shakes and cries.

I give him a minute or so before I shift, curling my arms underneath him and huffing out a breath as I rock myself up to standing, lifting him from the ground. _Not_ easy, and my right shoulder is already a bit sore, but I bare my teeth and make it happen. He curls a little tighter into my chest, but doesn't try to stop me, so I carry him over around the side of the bed. I carefully climb onto it, and then lay him down next to me. That gets me a small whine and he tries to clutch me closer to him.

"Easy," I murmur, stroking my fingers along his hairline. "I'm right here, Damian."

I reach down with my left hand, lying down and stretching out next to him as I curl my fingers around his cock. He's hard, and god knows if that's from the adrenaline or his own masochistic tendencies but it's still a fact. He shakes, but his hips tilt upwards towards my hand. I very carefully pull at the steel around and inside him, and he gives a shaking cry, but it pops off without any real resistance. He stays almost deathly still until it's all the way out, and I toss it off to the other side of the bed.

"Good boy," I praise, whispering it into his hair. I wrap my hand around his cock, feeling the leftover lube on it from the steel and deciding that's enough. "Hear me, Damian? I forgive you, and you're a _good_ boy now. Such a good boy for me."

A second cry, and his fingers claw at my chest, scratching along my armor. His head tosses to the side, towards me, and I pull back a little bit. I stroke him, watch his face contort with pleasure even as the tears continue to fall, and then lean in and kiss him. I keep it gentle, and he tastes like salt but that's fine.

I keep up my praises, whispering them as I move my hand and continue to kiss him. Light, just brushes of lips, and slow and steady down at his cock. One of his hands finds my left shoulder and clings, the pressure actually making it all the way down so I can feel it against my skin. His hips are jerking in little movements, but he's also trembling. His sounds are somewhere between that broken sobbing and little desperate whines that are definitely pleasure.

It's honestly not that long before he's jerking harder, arching just a little bit as he pulses in my grip and comes up over his own stomach.

"That's good," I murmur against his lips, as I carefully let go of his cock. "Just relax, Damian. Relax and let me take care of you." I press kisses down his jaw, sliding my hand up his chest. "Let's get you under those blankets and take off this collar. Get you some water and then I'll be right here, Damian. Right next to you."

I pull up just a bit, reaching down and pushing my hand into my pocket to retrieve the keys to the collar. I keep them in my hand as I lift Damian up off the sheets for a second, pulling the blankets down before I ease him in. I roll him onto his side so I can get at his back, fitting the keys into the latch of the collar and undoing it. He shudders, and gives a soft whine when I pull the collar away from his neck, but doesn't move otherwise. I turn to set the collar down on the nightstand, leaving the keys in the lock, and turn back to Damian.

I freeze up for a second.

His back is to me, curved and bared, and it makes my breath catch hard in my throat. The skin is already darkening in a fair amount of places to red, leaving marks that I know will be black and yellow in the morning, and the beads of blood have smeared across his skin, leaving little streaks of it across his spine and down towards the lower part of his ribs. I stare at the marks, and then lower my gaze down his back to what I can see of the curve of his ass. It's easier to see there; the red stripes from the cane have had longer to turn into real marks.

I stare for another couple of seconds, and then deliberately reach down and pull the blankets up and over Damian's shoulders, tucking them in close against his neck and sides. I close my eyes for a moment, then force myself to lean in and press a kiss to the top of his head.

"I'm going to grab you some water, Damian."

I get off the bed, keeping my movements slow and deliberate as I head for the door of the bedroom. It opens soundlessly, and I slip outside. My gaze is lowered, but I raise it after I've shut the door behind me again.

Dick and Tim are on the couch, tangled up in each other but both wide awake, and both wearing absolutely nothing but boxers. Tim's on top, and he's the first to climb off and get to his feet when our gazes meet. There's something soft and satisfied about both of them, but they still don't waste any time heading for me. I manage to jolt myself into action, taking a few steps forward to meet them. Tim's hand slides across my arm, and then he's moving right past me.

I turn after him, getting out, "He needs water," past the lump in my throat.

Tim nods, and then Dick's arms are hooking around me and he's steering me towards the couch. I get enough time to watch Tim veer towards the kitchen before Dick pulls me down, pulling at one of my wrists to get my attention. I start a bit, but turn towards him anyway as his other arm loops up around my shoulders, fingers curling into my hair. He looks a little bit worried, and I honestly have no idea if that's aimed towards me or towards the fact that he knows Damian is in that room, and doesn't know how badly he's hurt.

I remember the streaks of bruising, the _blood_ , and have to swallow, my shoulders rising a bit with tension.

Dick shifts closer, turning me to face him as he presses up against my side. "Jay, what's going on?"

I shake my head, dragging my gaze away from him and down to the floor. "I'm fine," I manage to say. "Just needed a second to come down from the high." I start to pull away from Dick, to turn towards the door. "He needs someone with him."

Dick tugs me back, though I catch a flash of Tim sliding in and shutting the door behind him, water in hand. "Tim's got it. You _know_ he'll take care of Damian, Jay. Talk to me, little wing? You don't look 'fine.' "

"Dick, I—"

" _Jason_ ," Dick preempts, with warning in his tone. "I might not have your kind of skill set, but don't think I won't put you over my knee for lying to me."

I stare at him for a second, and then lower my head and snort. "I—" My stomach clenches up, and I fight back a small shiver. "What if I really hurt him, Dick?"

Dick's fingers slide through my hair, and he's quiet for a moment before he speaks. "You did, Jason, but that's what he wanted from you. Don't feel guilty for that."

"You don't believe that," I counter, raising my gaze to meet his eyes. "It scares you."

"It _worries_ me," he corrects, "and I do believe it. I know that you both want nights like these; I know you _need_ them. I might not understand the mentality behind it, but I know it makes you both better. I can't help worrying about either of you being hurt, but I know you'd never take it too far, Jay. You care too much to let that happen."

"It's—" I swallow back my words, but they come right back up my throat so I just close my eyes so I don't have to meet Dick's gaze. "Damian hates what he was made into. He's ashamed of all the years of his life before he met us, and now that he knows better he knows that so much of what he was told to do when he was young was _terrible_ and bloody. When that's too much, he needs to be punished for it. Because— Because once you've been punished, you're _forgiven_."

"And you?"

I shiver, and the knot in my gut twists tighter. "There's so much _violence_ in me," I whisper. "And if I don't let it out… Damian can take it. It's safe as long as I'm careful. But— But I _enjoy_ it, Dick." I bow my head, tugging my hand away from his so I can raise both of them, raking my fingers back through my hair. "What is _wrong_ with me?" I ask, not really expecting any answer. "What's wrong in my head that I get off on humiliating him? _Hurting_ him? What am I capable of?"

Dick's arm presses around my shoulders, and I feel the brush of lips to my temple. "Nothing, Jay. _Nothing_ is wrong with you. You get off to a lot of other things too, remember?" He gives a quiet chuckle. "In fact, I remember a story about a night where Tim tied _you_ down and gave you a few bruises of your own. If I remember right, you liked that quite a bit. Maybe it's you who needs to be punished."

I give a bark of laughter before I can stop myself, and then flick my eyes open and look up at him. "You don't have it in you to be that cruel, Dick," I murmur. "No one that I trust to tie me down could stomach hurting me as badly as it would take. I deal with what I've done in other ways."

Dick raises his free hand, ghosting it across my jaw before he leans in and kisses me. Soft, slow, and I give a small sound into it when he pulls away again. "There is _nothing_ wrong with you," he repeats, his voice barely above a whisper. "You're giving Damian what he needs, isn't that the reason? Would you get off on hurting or humiliating me? Or Tim?"

I swallow, trying not to think about all the fantasies I've had of the two of them. "Yes," I admit, "but never without your permission. I'd never hurt you unless you wanted it, and humiliation… It has to be careful, planned beforehand or at _least_ talked about. I target specific things with Damian, and there are subjects I never even get near because they'd hurt too much."

Bruce. Talia. Anything to do with being accepted by our family. Anything to do with _love_.

"See?" Dick's voice is gentle, and he gives me a small smile. "You'd never do anything to us we didn't want, Jay. I know you'd stop in an _instant_ if Damian ever said that safe word you set up, and that's why it doesn't matter what you're capable of; you would never let things go too far. I know you, Jay. You're a good person, you just have to believe it."

The knot in my stomach eases a little bit, and it eases even more when Dick leans in and kisses me again. His fingers stroke over my jaw, easing back through my hair, and I let out a slow breath and return the kiss. The longer he keeps me in it the more I relax, his easy acceptance calming the guilt and fear in my chest. I know it's just the drop off of chemicals, and my own head messing with me, but that doesn't mean the worries aren't true. I worry that I've really hurt Damian almost every time we play.

"Jason."

I pull away from the kiss, turning my head at the soft call of Tim's voice. Dick stays close to me, but I can feel him tilt a bit to the side so that he can see Tim too. Tim, who is leaning partially out of the open door and watching us.

"Damian's asking for you," he says quietly.

Dick pulls his hand away, as I take in a deeper breath. "Are you alright to go back in there?"

I nod, and reach down to squeeze his hand once before I stand up and off of the couch. "Yeah, I'm good." Dick gets up to follow me as I head for Tim, and I slip into the room and head for the bed. Damian's still curled underneath the covers, but it looks like he's stretched out some, and his eyes are blinking from the top, staring down at me. He still looks hazed and pretty out of it.

"Jason," he breathes, and the sound of my name makes me twitch a little bit. I sit down at his side, reaching forward to run my fingers through his hair. He shifts up into my touch.

"What do you need, Damian?" He gives a small whine, one hand somehow burrowing out of the covers to grasp at my knee. I give a small smirk. "Yeah? Alright, you got it."

I start to lay down, and a hand grabs me by the shoulder. If I didn't know the weight and feel of that hand so well I might have jerked, but I just twist my head and look up at Dick instead. He's smiling, and he leans down and presses a small kiss to my temple.

"Strip down first, Jay. You're going to be miserable if you sleep in clothes." His voice is quiet, but he _is_ right.

I give a soft snort, but don't struggle when his hand takes the zipper at the back of my neck and pulls it down, parting my armor along the line of my spine. I lower my head, letting him peel it off of my arms to leave my chest bare, before his hands fall down to my belt. He gets that off too, and then I lightly trace my fingers along Damian's jaw as I pull away and stand before Dick can make some teasing comment about needing me to get up to take my pants off. He works like magic, and the small grin he shoots me when he drops to his knees to undo my boots just makes me give another snort. Maybe if I wasn't quite so tired; maybe _later_.

I don't want control right now, but I think I could enjoy letting Dick fuck me in that slow, lazy way he likes sometimes.

Once he's got me bare I turn back around, pulling the blankets back and slipping in beside Damian. He gives another soft whine, and I carefully guide him to rest on his side, fitting myself up against his back and wrapping my arms over his side and underneath his head. His head fits neatly underneath my chin, and I can hear Tim and Dick shifting onto the bed as well. Damian's hands grab the arm I have slung over his side and cling tight. Tight enough that it almost stings now that my armor's off.

"Thank you," Damian whispers, his head turning underneath my chin until I feel lips press against my throat in small, almost desperate kisses. " _Thank you_ , Jason."

I gently tighten my grip, staying mindful that he's bruised pretty badly, and I can't press against his back too hard. That's why I'm at his back, and not leaving it to Tim or Dick. I can walk the line of touching him without touching him too hard, whereas Dick and Tim will avoid almost all contact with an injured area.

"Of course, Damian," I answer, as I feel Dick press up against me. Long, naked, and warm, his hands pressing against my back and sides. "Whatever you need."

Tim slides in front of Damian, scooting close enough to lean in and very gently kiss our youngest. I smile and close my eyes as Dick presses gentle kisses to my shoulders and the back of my neck, and Tim tangles himself with Damian, their foreheads resting together.

"Rest for me," I whisper into Damian's hair. "Little prince."


End file.
